It's Unfair and its Unjust!
by Child of Mars
Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin. The TARDIS, two waterguns, and two bored Timelords...
1. Chapter 1

**Unfair**

The Master rested, comfortably positioned in the depths of a giant lazy boy. A fire, more from nostalgia than actual heat need, burned before him, casting a warm, orange glow over the dark red, patterned rugs. On the mantelpiece were several strange knick-knacks, belonging to both the Doctor and the Master. As seemed to be the norm with their earthly possessions, the fireplace was distinctly cut in half for them.

On one side, which was neat and dusted and orderly, a snow-globe of Gallifrey stood side by side with a Mini-Beryllium Clock, several books, all thick and heavy, and a family picture of the Master with his arm around Lucy's shoulders, and Rose holding the Doctor's arm as he grinned at the camera.

The other side was literally grey on top with dirt and dust, while yellow, fading papers hung awkwardly over the sides. Two books teetered on the edge, while a strange crystalline bird perched on top, as if about to use them for a diving board. A picture of Rose, garnished with an old and faded rose, and a feather of an unknown creature. A broken watch lay there also.

This was what the Master fondly called, "The Den.", and the Doctor inartistically called, "The Room Over There Somewhere with Seats and a Fire and Stuff."

The Master himself was deeply, if not completely, immersed in _Gree-Gora's Calculus of Temporal Mass VS Spatial Instability. _

He was so interested in this written work, that he did not hear the stealthy, soft footsteps made by white sneakers padding over the rug. He did not notice the horrific, sharp shadow thrown against the wall by spiky brown hair. Only when a plastic yellow water pistol barrel was shoved near his face did he look up.

The Doctor stood above him, looking reckless and dangerous. Which is to be understood, since their last adventure must have been at least a few weeks ago. One could tell when the Doctor was about to do something insane because his grin was always full and toothy, his eyes wide, and his speech took on a peculiar tone.

The Master sighed patiently. "Doctor, did you forget to take your calming medication this morning?"

"Nooooo." The Doctor swiftly answered, his voice low and rumbling. "Come off it, Master! I'm armed with a water pistol, and unless you'll play a game of Eighth Man Bound with me, I'm going to let loose."

The Master raised his eyebrows. "Eighth Man Bound? When was the last time you played that?"

"Oh, I dunno…200 years ago, roughly."

"Win or lose?"

"Uh…you could call it a loss…but I won in the end!"

"That makes a lot of sense. And no, I will not play Eighth Man Bound. For three important reasons. 1. We are Timelords, not children."

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't act childish sometimes."

"All the time in your case. 2. I am reading a very interesting book."

"Yeah, Spatial Instability pertains to you in a special way."

"Ahem. 3. You wouldn't play Checkers with me yesterday."

"Oi, I told you, it had to be Three-Dimensional Chess!"

"You were afraid of losing. I gave my final word." The Master turned back to his book.

The Doctor frowned at his bent head. "Oh, is that so? This is your last warning!"

The Master ignored him. Suddenly, a cold squirt of water hit him in the side of his face and trickled down his neck. He closed his eyes a moment, as his nerves got used to the feeling. He closed the book slowly, very slowly, and set it carefully on the table beside him. Then he looked up at the Doctor, who had the grace to look a little ashamed, though not a bit penitent.

"I did warn you, you know. Right? So, no hard feelings, ey?" The Doctor smiled friendlily.

But there was no way the Master was going to let that pass. He laced his fingers together, much like Harold Saxon of old. "Doctor, I believe you do not regret your previous actions."

"Of course I do! Well, mostly. Well, kinda. Well, actually, not at all." The Doctor shrugged.

"Then I'm very sorry."

The Doctor's eyes widened twice their size as the Master reached behind the arm of the lazy boy and pulled out a gigantic super blaster, already loaded.

Immediately, he backed away toward the door, speaking rapidly as the Master stood up and aimed. "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! It's not my fault! Well, it is my fault, but it's not fair! I mean, my water pistol is almost empty…no wait, wait!"

A powerful stream of water followed him beyond the door and out of sight.

Footsteps, clangs, two voices with outcries of shock and surprise as well as excitement echoed through the T.A.R.D.I.S., drowning out her hums. All was well, and wet.

DwDwDw

Rose sat on the Doctor's bed, legs crossed, flipping idly through a magazine. She had been unable to find him that day, and, as usual, just made herself comfortable in his room, where he always came after a while.

She heard his footsteps and looked up. A yellow water pistol dangled from his wet, dripping fingers as he stood in the doorway. His shocking brown hair, what little of it was not slicked down by a heavy load of water, stuck up like mountains with drops dangling from them. Water trickled down from his hair to behind his ears to his neck, pooling in an already saturated coat. He smiled sheepishly at her, a drip falling off his nose.

"Whoa! What happened to you?" Rose cried, jumping out of the bed and opening the Doctor's closet. He squelched into the room, awkwardly reaching by her to get a new, dry set of clothes. "Just a diplomatic discussion with someone who doesn't know how to take a joke."

"The Master again." Rose stated, a breathless chuckle being swallowed down with difficulty.

"I can't believe him! Just has to play Eight Man Bound, and he'd rather get soaking wet for the sake of an old book!" The Doctor muttered, holding the bundle of dry clothes away from his wet chest as he dripped off down the hallway toward the dressing room.

"Who's soaking wet?" Rose grinned at the disappearing figure, still shining in the lights with water.

DwDwDw

Lucy busied herself rearranging the bedroom. Though the T.A.R.D.I.S. would have done it with little trouble, Lucy preferred to do it herself. So did the Master, as it gave Lucy's personal touch to the place. She gave one more shove to the dresser. No good. She'd have to get the Doctor or Harry to help.

At that moment, Harry came in, carrying an empty super blaster. She raised an eyebrow at the wet splatters scattered on his shirt, jacket, and trousers. "What have you been doing? I need some help with this."

Harry leaned the blaster in a corner and pulled off his jacket, pulling out some dry things from the closet. "I've been teaching the Doctor the value of water conservation. I'll help you once I get changed." He added.

Meanwhile, the T.A.R.D.I.S. used her high powered heat, air conditioning, and absorption units to clean up the mess. She felt rather cold and wet, so she thought it better to clean up personally. Besides, there was no telling when THEY would get around to it.

FINIS

_The next and last chapter details the Doctor's revenge...heeheehee._


	2. Chapter 2

**Unjust**

The Master hummed softly to himself as he moved through the corridors. He always loved reading in the gardens. True, the sunlight was artificial, and the breezes manufactured, but it was as close to the real thing as one could get.

He paused once to brush off some dust from his shoulder before passing a hand over the door lock. It slid open, and he stepped out onto the pavement. Old, dead leaves crackled beneath his feet as he squinted up at the green foliage.

Trees waved softly. Bird sounds came from here and there, and a real one would actually fly across the sky at some points. The Master made his way to the stone bench under the oak, crossing his legs and opening to a certain chapter.

Suddenly, he heard a crunch and, dropping his book, jumped up and whirled around. As he suspected, there was the Doctor.

But to the Master's abject horror, the Doctor had a high-powered hose in his hand. His foot was poised over the switch. As if in forewarning, the hose was dripping.

The Doctor's grin was positively diabolical. "Ready to continue our game, Master?"

The Master pointed a finger at him. "No, no, no, no you don't!"

"Oh yes!" The Doctor said gleefully. His sneakers moved closer.

"I'm defenseless! I haven't even got a water balloon! This suit was just cleaned!" The Master protested, all the while backing towards the door. His back pressed against cold metal. It was closed.

"Sorry. Really, I am so sorry. We have to keep the fight in the garden or the Old Girl will have a fit. Ready?"

"You can't…you can't do this! It's not fair!"

"Yeah. It's brilliant."

As if in slow motion, the Master saw the Doctor's foot come down. The next minute, he felt utterly drenched as water slammed into him, soaking his clothes through instantly. His first desperate thought was to cower against the wall, the second to run. His third idea came through much stronger.

He ran forward, into the stream. He faltered a few steps, than continued his headlong rush, colliding with the Doctor. They fell to the ground, struggling for control of the hose. It would spray first him than the Doctor, getting in their faces, splashing mud up, and hitting the roof.

"Give me that hose!" The Master spat out water. "You will obey!"

The Doctor blew water out of his nose as he rolled away, tangled up in it a little. "Nuh-uh. I wasn't born yesterday." He vaulted over the bench and sprayed the Master from there, as if from a fort.

As the Master ran around, the Doctor tried to retreat. The Master flung himself forward and caught his ankles. Again, they were struggling on the ground, thoroughly washing themselves and their surroundings, kicking up leaves and mud.

But the Doctor had a plan. Slowly, their water fight moved on towards the southern end, where the duck lake was.

He purposely let the Master yank the hose partly away, while the end of it danced between them like something alive. The Master teetered on the edge, so intent on wrestling the hose away that he didn't notice the Doctor hook his leg around behind the Master's knees. All he saw was an evil, mischievous grin.

Down he went, over the side, falling into the warm, algae covered water. A few seconds later, he resurfaced, spitting out and treading on water. "What did you do that for?" He exclaimed, furious. No, burning furious.

The Doctor leaned over, grinning from ear to ear, hands on his knees. "You asked for it."

DwDwDw

Rose came out of the bathroom to meet the Doctor. He bounced happily on his heels, fresh, dry suit held awkwardly with one hand. He pulled her into an exuberant, muddy kiss. She pulled back and wiped her mouth with the back of her arm. "Phew! Bloody…Doctor, what's up with you?" She snapped, annoyed.

He grinned, dancing past her into the bathroom. "I won! By all the stars, I just won a water fight! Vengeance is sweet! Who invented that quote anyway? It should have been, "VENGEANCE IS AWESOME! VENGEANCE IS AWESOMENESS INCARNATE! Haha!" He ended, than burst into a song of some strange, alien language.

Rose grinned in spite of herself.

DwDwDw

Lucy followed the strange trail of water through the halls, the one that led to her husband's room. She finally found her husband standing helplessly in front of the closet. His clothes were pooling, with green strands of ponds scum stretching over his body. Mud, partly washed off, decorated his features. Algae plants hung gracefully from his hair, ears, and arms.

Lucy could find nothing to say, at first. She stared at him, mouth partly open.

He frowned at her. "Is something wrong?" He crossed his arms imperiously. The effect was ruined, however, by the fresh stream that made a plippety plop sound as it poured onto the rug, as well as the mysterious croaking that emitted from his pocket.

Lucy burst into roaring laughter.

FINIS


End file.
